Fragile Rose
by Hmfan5535
Summary: When Kyle wandered into Alvarna, he wasn't expecting Dorothy, the shy daughter of an abusive priest father. As soon as he saw the seemingly helpless girl, Kyle was attracted to her. Can he save her and win her heart in time? Warning: ABUSE!
1. Chapter 1

I wasn't sure what it was about her that attracted me. Was it the beige cloak, the hood pulled over her head, which was so different from the other attire in the room that drew my eye? Was it the light green hair, a unique, but pretty, shade I had never seen before? Or was it the way she was standing: shoulders hunched, clutching a brown doll with her hair shielding her face, a posture that screamed _fragile_?

I wasn't sure what it was, but there was an odd, almost enchanting beauty about her. It made all of the other young women in the village, all of them quite beautiful, seem weak in comparison.

Gordon, the priest, whom I had been sent to deliver something to, glanced down at me with a half-frown.

"Kyle, I would like you to meet my two daughters. This is my first-born, Dorothy." He paused to gesture to the green-haired girl; I stared for probably a moment too long, as Gordon cleared his throat. I tore my eyes away from Dorothy, trying not to dwell on the fact that she hadn't even looked up when her father had called her name.

"And this is my second-born, Cammy." The other girl, who was taller than Dorothy, grinned, and waved rather cheekily, her pink pigtails swinging jauntily. Funny. As childish as Cammy seemed, I still would have perceived her as the older sister. For one thing, she was taller, and Dorothy seemed so tiny and _delicate_…

"Now, what did you come for, Kyle?" Gordon asked, interrupting my analysis. (I also might have been staring at Dorothy again.)

"Right. Well…" I looked back at Gordon hastily, quickly reaching into my rucksack, "Mayor Bryon asked me to give these to you." I pulled out a brown paper envelope, taped shut, and offered it carefully to Gordon.

He took it with a smile, ripping it open without the least regard, and dumped out a stack of sheets into his hand. He scanned them quickly, and grinned. "Ah. I've been waiting for these for a while. There are a lot of young women and men coming of age, so I thought it would be a good idea to order some blank marriage certificates. You know, my Cammy is getting old enough, too."

I felt my cheeks go a little warm as Cammy giggled. "It's a good thing you think ahead." My eyes flickered over to Dorothy momentarily. If Cammy was old enough for marriage, Dorothy certainly would be, too. Why didn't Gordon mention her name?

"Yes, it is," Gordon agreed warmly, making me quickly turn my eyes back to him, "It's a good thing you moved here, Kyle. It's only your third day in the village, and, already the mayor is asking you to deliver important documents. There aren't many people like you, trust-worthy and hard-working, in the world right now."

I half-smiled, embarrassed. "Everyone in this village is very kind and helpful. I just hope working on Mana and Douglas' farm will help bring my memory back."

As I finished my sentence, I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, that Dorothy's head came up a fraction, her head tilting to the side in an almost inquisitive way.

"Yes, it is a shame that you lost your memory. You must have taken a pretty good crack to the head, or something. Usually head trauma causes amnesia. You seem to be a natural farmer, though. This village has never had fresher vegetables. Cammy really enjoys them." Gordon's friendly tone seemed a little forced.

My smile was forced, too. My earlier positive opinion on Gordon was slowly dwindling. Dorothy still had said nothing, and Gordon was acting like she wasn't even there. Cammy was absolutely basking in her father's attention. "Thank-you. Well, speaking of farming, I'd better get back to work. After this delivery, I was planning on getting some pink turnip seeds."

"Oh, goody! I _love_ pink turnips!" Cammy gushed, batting her eyelashes at me. I swallowed a little nervously.

Gordon chuckled. "Well, thank-you for the papers, Kyle. See you around."

I dipped my head courteously. "Yes. Nice meeting you, Cammy and Dorothy. Have a nice day."

"Oh, you, too! I'll see you around!" Cammy answered, with too much eagerness.

Dorothy stayed silent, but her head came up a bit more. As I turned my back, and headed down the aisle towards the door, I thought I heard a faint, almost inaudible:

"G-Goodbye…Kyle…"

~*~

The click of the door swinging shut was the only sound in the silence that followed Kyle's departure. I peered through my bangs at my father, and then at my sister.

"Oh, he's cute!" Cammy exclaimed, clapping her hands on either side of her face in a cliché position. Her blue eyes were sparkling with excitement. It was typical of my younger sister. As much as I loved Cammy, I resented the way she played with men like that. Kyle seemed like a nice person, and she was going to hurt him if he fell for my sister's charm.

"Cammy, I don't know about him," My father cautioned, "Did you see the way he was staring at you? I think you should stay away from him."

Cammy giggled. "Daddy, don't be silly! He wasn't staring at me! He was staring at _Dorothy_!"

I felt my whole face, ears included, go beet red. Kyle…Kyle was staring at _me_? Surely Cammy was mistaken! Every man that saw the two of us was smitten by Cammy, and avoided me.

My father snorted. "Don't be ridiculous, Cammy! He wouldn't even care to look at Dorothy! She is tiny, and not as pretty as you! Not to mention that she never talks!"

I felt my whole back stiffen. There he was, doing it again. Talking about me as if I wasn't standing right there. Did my father forget I was there, or did he really not care?

"Daddy! Don't talk about Dorothy that way!" Cammy cried, and I thanked the Gods and Goddesses above that I had my younger sister to stand up for me. But I had heard enough. Without another word, I turned my back, and fled to the refuge of my room, shutting and locking the door behind me.

Once I was in the safety of my room, I climbed onto my bed, fighting the tears that made my throat ache. As grateful as I was for Cammy's support, I knew my father was right. I wasn't pretty at all. I was shy, and I stuttered when I talked. Kyle would never look twice at someone like me, especially not with my beautiful, friendly younger sister standing next to me.

For some reason, that made the tears I was forcing back spill over.


	2. Chapter 2

Dawn found me the next morning in the fields, cheerfully watering the two plots of pink turnips I had purchased and planted the day before. Though they were still only seeds in the ground, I knew that they would soon grown into tiny, delicate sprouts, and eventually, into mature turnips that I could pick and sell.

I put my watering can down, surveying the area with a smile. Sure, it was only eighteen spots of darkened land, seeds hidden deep in the fertile earth, but the sight still made me happy. Soon, the eighteen sprouts would poke out of the ground, and the money would come in. Those eighteen crops were the beginning of my profit as a farmer.

I picked up my watering can, checking my rucksack to make sure I still had my grasses, and then headed off towards the Trieste Forest, broadsword in hand. It was still early, only seven-thirty, so the Pumpkin General Store wasn't open.

As I trotted along the path, I stared around at the cherry blossoms. As odd as it sounded, I loved cherry blossoms. They were quite beautiful. My farm had constant cherry blossoms blowing around, and I loved it.

The next thing I knew, I was on the ground. I blinked, and looked over, realizing, with chagrin, that Dorothy was also on the ground. I then understood that I had walked right into her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Dorothy! I wasn't paying attention to where I was going!" I jumped to my feet, and offered her a hand to help her up.

She took it hesitantly, and I helped her up. She stared at the ground as she answered me. "I-It's…um…no…no problem…"

I then realized I was still holding her hand, a little too tightly. Stammering apologies, I let go, my face burning. Her own cheeks seemed a little pink, too. She turned her face away.

When I went to stare at the ground, seeing it as my only way to not stare at her, I realized there was blood dripping off my hand. Glancing at the hand I had been holding, I saw that her whole palm was scarlet, as was her right knee, the gash covered in dirt and rocks.

"Oh, Goddess! I'm sorry, Dorothy! Here, come with me. I'll clean up your cuts." I reached for her hand, but she recoiled away from me.

"N-no…I…I'm…it's…no…um…Bye!"

As she turned to run, I seized her arm. The simple touch sent what felt jolts of electricity running through me. Dorothy's whole face was crimson with embarrassment, and she half-heartedly tried to tug away.

"Don't be stupid. Those cuts will get infected. It was my fault, so I have to fix it. Come on." I half-dragged her towards my house. She put up some resistance, trying to tug free, but, as we got closer, she gave in, following me meekly.

Once we were in the house, I led her straight to my table, turning the chair out so she could sit down. She did so timidly. Instead of looking around the house, she looked at the floor.

"Y-you…you…have a…nice…house…" She whispered.

Amazed that she knew this even though she hadn't appeared to even glance around, I smiled. "Thank-you, Dorothy."

While she stared at her knees, I opened my shelf. I knew I had some medication; I had stocked up pretty good my second day, in case I was injured working, or while in the forest.

_Ah. There you are._ Pulling the ointment, and a roll of cloth for bandages, I returned to Dorothy. I decided to work on her knee first, as Dorothy was already flustered enough that I didn't want to take her hand right then. I was as careful as I could be as I gently smeared on the ointment, but she still winced.

"Cripes, I'm sorry, Dorothy. I really should pay more attention to where I'm going…"

Dorothy didn't answer, and I said nothing more as I carefully bandaged her knee. But when I reached for her hand uncertainly, she pulled away. I stared at the ground, feeling a little hurt and confused until I felt her hand pat my shoulder, her touch feather-soft. My head snapped up, and I felt like I would have met her eyes, if her hair hadn't been protecting them.

"P-Please…don't…don't trouble yourself…on…o-on my account."

I smiled at her. "Don't worry about it. Now, let me clean your hand." I didn't reach for it this time. Instead, I waited until she held it out. I pretended not to notice that it was trembling as I took it carefully, and applied the ointment.

When her hand was cleaned and bandaged, I leaned back, and examined my work for a moment. It was well done, if I did say so myself, and I was pleased that Dorothy wouldn't suffer from infection on my account.

When I was satisfied, I stood up, and took a few steps back. "Well, there you are. Now, you can go on to whatever you were planning on doing before I rudely knocked you down."

She got to her feet slowly, and nodded once, barely a jerk of her head. "Yes…I...ah…um…well…" She seemed to not be able to finish her sentence, and suddenly blurted: "Thanks!" before fleeing out the door.

I stood and stared at the closed door for a long time, unable to move. All I could think about was the feeling of her hand on my shoulder before I shook my head, and went to mop up the blood that had dripped onto the floor.

~*~

I hurried home as fast as I could, but I was forced to limp because of my knee. I knew I was late; before I had collided with Kyle, I had been sent by my father to get him some milk. Now, I clutched the triangle carton, but I still knew that Kyle's insistence on cleaning my wounds had set me back on time.

I slowed when I reached the chapel doors. I paused for a moment to recompose myself, drawing in a deep breath, and then pushed the doors open. I rushed up the aisle, trying to disguise my limp, though I was sure it was still evident in my stride.

Gordon was waiting at the end of the aisle, standing by the alter. The room was empty besides him, which scared me. My father would not hold back his wrath if we were alone.

As soon as he saw me, Gordon whirled, back-handing me to the ground. The milk carton smashed as soon as it hit the ground, the flimsy cardboard tearing, splashing me with milk as I fell to the floor.

"You insolent child! Where have you been?! I specifically told you to be here at nine-fifteen, fifteen minutes after I sent you out for milk! It only takes fifteen minutes to walk to the store, buy some milk, and be back! It's ten-o-five! Where have you been?!"

The whole speech was a roar. I prayed someone didn't hear me. I didn't want my father to get in trouble, even if he yelled at me, belittled me, and pretending I didn't exist most of the time.

I slowly got to my feet, sucking in my breath sharply when my hand and knee throbbed. "I-I'm…sorry…"

"Foolish child! First you are late, and now you have let my milk spill!" My father's hand smashed into my cheek once more, throwing me to the floor again. The back of my head cracked against the stone floor. My ears rung. I saw stars.

I stared up at my father, who stood above me, breathing like a winded rhinoceros. I knew what came next. I was on the ground now, and dizzy from the last blow. I was weaker, more vulnerable than usual.

Now came the beating.

But as Gordon stepped forward to deliver the first strike, there was a loud knock at the chapel doors. My head jerked up in surprise, and Gordon's snapped towards the doors. Scowling, he stepped away from me, smoothing his robes.

"Get up, you clumsy child. Come in!" He raised his voice so whoever was outside could hear him. I thanked the Gods and Goddesses above that they had spared me.

The doors creaked open, and someone stepped in. I could hear their footsteps, but I didn't look away from my father. I was afraid to.

Because I was looking at my father, I saw his face break into a warm, welcoming smile. I knew it was forced, but it looked genuine.

"Ah, Kyle! Great to see you! What brings you here?"

My heart stuttered to a stop, and then picked up in pace. Kyle? Oh, cripes! What would he think if he saw me?! I closed my eyes, and prayed for a moment that he wouldn't notice me. Slowly, I began to drag myself away, inch by inch, keeping one eye on Gordon, the other on Kyle.

Kyle was carrying a bundle, and, judging by the shape, it held bottles. He smiled at my father, but his didn't look as real as Gordon's. "I came to drop these off to Dorothy. Natalie asked me to bring them."

Natalie? It must have been medicine. My heart skipped a beat. If they were for me, he would most certainly want to give them to me himself. I cursed when I realized the bandage on my knee had been ripped away, and the blood was gushing from the wound. Not to mention the blood I could taste in my mouth, the blossoming bruise I could feel on my cheekbone, and the milk that had been spilled all over me.

Gordon held out his hands for the package. "Ah, thank-you. I'm sure Dorothy will be glad to get them. Now, I'll give them to her when she gets back."

Instead of handing over the package, Kyle held it a bit closer. "I'd like to give them to her myself, if you don't mind. She fell earlier, and I forgot to give her the ointment to apply to it every day so it doesn't get infected…"

I recognized the steely glint in my father's eyes. Years of practice granted me the ability to see it. It appeared harmless enough, but I knew it was a dangerous smile.

_Gods curse you, Kyle! Leave now!_

"Dorothy is out right now. I will make sure they are delivered to her safe and sound." Gordon's tone was firm and forced.

"I'll find her, if you don't mind," Kyle replied, almost defiantly, "Where is she, anyways?" His eyes darted around the room, and then his whole body froze when he saw me, lying on the ground, covered in blood and milk.


	3. Chapter 3

"Dorothy! What happened?!"

Kyle was at my side in a heartbeat, his eyes frantically scrutinizing my wounds. "You're covered in blood and milk! And you've got a big bruise on your cheek!"

My eyes flickered to Gordon, who, now that Kyle had his back to him, was scowling heavily. "Breathe a word, and you'll regret it…" He mouthed to me, and I quickly turned my gaze to my bleeding knee.

"I…uh…um…ah…tripped…" I muttered, reaching forward with one tentative hand to try and stem the bleeding.

"Dorothy! I thought I was the clumsy one! We have to get you to the Clinic!"

The Clinic?! Natalie would know immediately that the bruise on my cheek was from a human hand! I started shaking my head furiously. "Ah…no….I'll be…I'll be…fine…"

Kyle's features twisted slightly with frustration. Cripes, how worried about a stranger can one man be? The concern was plain in his chocolate brown eyes.

"Don't be stupid. Cripes, today just isn't your day, is it? First I knock you down, and then you trip!"

"You knocked her down?" Gordon asked formally, but he was smiling now. It was a real smile, but it was a nasty one, too.

Kyle didn't look away from me; his eyes were still intent on my wounds as he reached into his pocket, and pulled out a clean, silk handkerchief. I could tell it was brand new, as it was crisp and fresh looking, but Kyle didn't hesitate as he tied it tightly around my knee.

"…Kyle…" I protested quietly, my forehead creasing. He shook his head at me, stopping me from protesting further. I sighed softly.

"We have to get you to the Clinic," Kyle repeated urgently, bowing forward slightly. When I felt his arms slide under me, I felt my cheeks go hot.

"Um…no…Kyle…please…"

Kyle ignored me, which wouldn't have surprised me if I hadn't been panicking. I couldn't let Kyle take me to the Clinic, but, with Kyle's warm arms wrapped tightly around me, I didn't think I had much of a choice.

Kyle stood slowly, cradling me carefully in his arms. I clutched Fern, my doll, as tightly as I could. I felt hot and flustered, acutely aware of his arms around me.

"Ah…K-Kyle…please…please…put me…down…"

"Not a chance. You need medical attention." Kyle shifted me cautiously into a more comfortable position, and turned towards the door.

"Ah, Kyle? There is no need to take her to the Clinic. I will care for her here, and I will give her a special blessing to ensure she recovers." Gordon's tone was steely, the friendliness in it definitely forced.

Kyle turned, unconsciously hugging me a bit tighter to his chest. I was already feeling self-conscience by this point, and this small move only made it worse. I started to tremble. As much as I appreciated Kyle's concern, he was going way past my comfort zone. My comfort zone was we walked together…with at least four feet of space between us.

"I'm sorry, sir, but your daughter needs more than a blessing that may or may not work. She needs medical care. She needs treatment." Kyle's voice was hard, matching Gordon's, with the absence of any friendliness in his tone. He meant business; I could tell by the way he stood, tall and straight, and his firm tone of voice.

Gordon glowered openly at him, and I finally recognized my father. I was so used to seeing him with a frown on his face, and to hear his shouting, because he always yelled at me. I admired Kyle's courage.

Kyle met his gaze defiantly for a long moment, and then turned his back, and hurried down the aisle, with me still in his arms. He shoved the heavy doors open easily with his shoulder, kicking it shut behind him once we were out into the sun.

As soon as we were into the sunlight, I felt small and insignificant. Kyle's walk was brisk as we headed down the path. I wished he would just put me down; I could still walk.

When we reached De Saint-Coquille park, my small and insignificant feeling vanished. Everyone stared. Suddenly, I felt twenty feet tall, and as if I had three eyes, green skin, and webbed feet. I shrank closer to Kyle, trying to hide. Everyone's eyes followed us as Kyle jogged past the fountain and towards the eastern district. Kyle acknowledged everyone with a grim smile, and they would return a faint one. They knew Kyle was set on taking me somewhere, and they weren't about to get in his way.

I just hoped they weren't getting the wrong idea.

~*~

"Oh, goodness! What happened?!"

"Dorothy tripped. The knee wound is from earlier today, but it's been made worse," I answered in my best business-like tone. I didn't want them to see how anxious I really was; it scared even me that I felt so much concern. The anxiety surged through me, taking control. I couldn't think past it. Despite the fact that I could set Dorothy down, I couldn't. I wanted to feel her in my arms, to reassure myself she was still there.

"Oh, dear. That doesn't sound like you, Dorothy." Natalie, the red-haired nurse, frowned for a moment, but it seemed to me that she was fighting a smile as she appraised us.

"You can put her down on the examination table, Kyle, dear."

I felt my cheeks go warm. Carefully, I stepped forward, setting Dorothy down as gently as I could. She sat with her shoulders slumped, head bowed, looking like a tiny, porcelain doll. I stepped away, moving to stand by Ray, Natalie's son, who was leaning against the wall, looking troubled. His eyes turned to me when I walked over, and his frown became more pronounced.

"You should go clean up, Kyle. You're all covered in blood."

I shook my head, my eyes still on Dorothy, who flinched when Natalie knelt to examine her knee, prodding it with gentle fingers. "No…I'm fine."

Ray was silent for a moment, but when he spoke next, I could hear the smile in his voice. "It's good that you care so much for Dorothy." There seemed to be some hidden meaning in his words.

I glanced over in surprise. "Care about her? Care about her how?"

Ray grinned when he saw my expression. "You know, care about her. Like…care about her as a woman."

It took me a minute to realize what he was getting at. When I finally realized what he meant, my eyes widened, and my whole face flooded with heat.

"No…no, I don't care about her _that_ way. Ray, you've got it all wrong…"

Ray's eyes narrowed. "You mean to tell me you don't care about her the same way I care about Rosalind? You're a liar! Why else would you carry her over here?!"

I saw my opportunity to embarrass him, and seized it. "Because she needed help! Besides, I'm no obsessed love-struck stalker!" It was no secret in the village that Ray had a huge crush on Rosalind, the exquisite daughter of Herman De Saint-Coquille. Ray didn't actually stalk her, but everyone _but_ Rosalind seemed to know of his affection.

Ray ducked his head; his cheeks went scarlet. "That's an over-exaggeration!"

"Not as much as saying I care about Dorothy in a romantic sort of way! I've been here for four days, Ray! I was merely helping someone who needed help. Dorothy is not a love interest for me."

The words were bitter on my tongue. For some reason, I desperately hoped that they weren't definite.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note:

I want to thank everyone who has been reading this fanfic~ I am grateful for your support, though there are few of you~ I hope this fanfic will continue to please you~

~Hmfan5535~

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"You know, Kyle…this is all very kind of you." Natalie smiled at me as I shrugged as nonchalantly as I could. I handed over the medicine with another shrug.

"I don't know why, but I have a knack for medicine. This is for infection, this is for fever, and this is to make the bruise less noticeable."

Natalie took the medicine with another smile, carefully setting it on the counter next to the uncomfortable-looking cot that held a sleeping Dorothy. Natalie had insisted Dorothy stay overnight, as her knee had been ripped open enough to expose bone, and Natalie wanted to monitor her in case she had any kind of response to the trauma.

"It was nice of you to bring this to me, despite the fact that it's eleven at night." Natalie's eyes scrutinized my face as I quickly ducked my head to stare modestly at my shoes. To tell the truth, I had left soon after Ray had accused me of caring for Dorothy, but I hadn't been able to concentrate on anything. I had tried to go to sleep at seven, earlier than normal, and, after another hour of tossing and turning, I had finally given in, mixed up some medicine, and brought it to the Clinic. Luckily, Natalie had been awake, as she hadn't wanted to leave Dorothy, and had let me in with minor surprise.

"Well…the knee thing was mostly my fault. I knocked her down, which created the wound. When she tripped, she made it worse."

"Mmmm…so much responsibility for such a young man, especially to a stranger." Natalie's smile was knowing as she turned away from me to put the medicine in a nearby cabinet.

I felt my cheeks go warm, and I was grateful she had her back to me. "Ah, well…" I didn't know what else to say to defend myself. Because I couldn't deny Ray's earlier words anymore. All of the time I had spent, trying to work or sleep, and unable to, had made me realize I did care for Dorothy. Maybe even in a romantic way. But I definitely cared about her as a friend, even though we had just met. Seeing her triggered my instinct to protect, as any would. The instinct to protect the weaker was never something I could ignore, though it was hardly fair to call Dorothy weak. She was probably anything but that; after all, she had taken care of herself before I had arrived at the village. She was just shy.

Natalie turned back to me, and her eyes twinkled. "Did you just come to deliver the medicine, then?"

I rubbed the back of my burning neck. I didn't want to go back home; it would be useless, anyways. I would just lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling and worrying. "Well…I haven't been able to sleep…have some case of insomnia; it's been happening since I came here…so I could…watch Dorothy for you while you sleep…if you would like?"

The words kind of just came out without my conscience command. I hadn't actually thought of speaking them aloud, but when I realized I had, I waited in tense silence, holding my breath.

Natalie beamed. "Why, that's a kind offer, Kyle! As a matter of fact, I am quite tired. I would appreciate it if you took over my shift for awhile."

I exhaled in a sigh of relief; my hands, which had been clenched into fists, relaxed. I smiled, and nodded. "I would be happy to."

Natalie nodded briskly. "Well, then. If there is any dramatic changes in her pulse, her condition seems to change in any way, or if she just stops breathing."

I stared at her in an aggravated disbelief. _Well, thanks. That's comforting._

Natalie didn't even seem to notice my frustration. "Well, I'll just have a quick bite of pumpkin pudding before I head off to bed." She smiled, and winked. "It's my favorite."

With that, she tottered off towards the stairs.

I waited until she was out of sight, and safely upstairs, before I dragged one of the hard, wooden chairs over to the side of Dorothy's cot. I winced at the screech of the chair legs against tile, but there was no sound in response besides the quiet _swish_ of a closing refrigerator door.

I relaxed into the chair after I was sure no one was coming down. After a moment, I began to study Dorothy's face. She looked very peaceful, even though I couldn't see her face. What did her face look like? I imagined it was quite beautiful, but I might have been biased.

At that moment, I was tempted. I could peek right now. All I would have to do was push her hair out of the way. I would finally solve the mystery. I had always been curious about the way she looked, and the glance would satisfy that curiosity.

But as I stared down at her, I noted how fragile she looked. Just like the porcelain doll she had earlier looked like, she could easily be broken. Her mouth, still in its permanent frown, was soft and vulnerable. And I knew I wouldn't look at her face. I wasn't about to invade her privacy. If Dorothy wanted me to see, she would show me.

It was hard to look at, now that I knew my true feelings. Dorothy certainly did not return them. I knew that Barrett had a crush on her, and I was sure she returned that affection. After all, she had probably known Barrett her whole life. I was just some stranger that had wandered in.

And that was all I ever would be.

~*~

When I woke next, I wasn't sure where I was. It took me a moment of blinking and shifting on the lumpy, uncomfortable bed I was to remember I was in the Clinic.

I sat up slowly, blinking against the weak sunlight that was spilling in the window. Fern was lying on the bedside table next to the cot, along with a glass of water. I drank it, and was surprised to find it fresh, instead of stale, as I had expected.

I turned to slide off the cot, and froze.

Slumped in a wooden chair next to the bed was Kyle, his eyes closed. His breathing was even, so I knew he was sleeping. I stared at him for a long moment with wide eyes; had he stayed all night?

I was suddenly overcome with an unexpected tenderness. Kyle…he was very sweet and kind to stay. He had cleaned and bandaged my wounds, carried me when I could barely walk, and then stayed when I needed help. I blinked back unexpected tears.

Carefully, I slid from the cot to the floor. My knee protested as soon as I put weight on it, but I ignored it. Quickly retrieving Fern from the table, I limped over to stand over Kyle.

Funny. He looked troubled as he slept. I wondered what he was dreaming about. His forehead was creased with concern, and he twitched occasionally. I reached with one, trembling, tentative hand, and lightly touched his cheek.

Under my shaking fingers, he relaxed into a more natural looking position. The lines smoothed out, and he fell still, besides the rise and fall of his chest. I stared at his peaceful expression for a long time, until I heard someone coming down the hall.

I snatched my hand. Limping as fast as my screaming knee would allow, I rushed to the cot, and practically threw myself on to it.

I felt a mild shock when Barrett stepped hesitantly into the room, glancing around the room. His eyes fell on the sleeping Kyle, and they narrowed for a moment, but when they came to rest on me, quivering on the cot, they softened.

"Hey, Dorothy. I came to see how you were doing." He walked, a little quickly, to stand over by my cot. I felt my breathing go uneven; for so long, I had harbored this secret crush on Barrett, never having the courage to tell him…to tell _anyone_.

"Well…I…ah…I'm…fine…"

He smiled crookedly. "Well, that's good…I…ah… wanted to tell you something…" He was suddenly nervous; he shifted his weight from foot to foot, and he, unexpectedly, blushed.

"Um…what…what is it?" I asked softly. I wasn't quite sure I wanted to hear; I toyed nervously with Fern.

"Well…I…ah…I…" He ducked his head, cheeks going crimson, to stare at his hands, which he had set on either side of my legs, which were hanging over the edge of the cot. "I wanted to tell you…that…I…I…like you…"

My heart stopped, and so did my lungs. They wouldn't work anymore. I tried to breathe, and couldn't. Then, with a jump, my heart broke into a sprint, and I was suddenly breathing hard. I could tell him…we could be happy together.

"I…um…I…l-like…you…t-t-too…"

I only caught a glance of the happiness in his eyes before he leaned forward, and kissed me gently. It felt kind of strange. It was something I had dreamed of for so long, but it felt so wrong. All I could think of was Kyle, who had devotedly stayed all night to ensure my health. My confusion was so high I couldn't respond to Barrett, not that I even knew how to.

As Barrett pulled away, I thought I saw Kyle's eyelids flutter.


	5. Chapter 5

It was cold.

I inhaled deeply, and then exhaled, watching my vaporized breath curl in the bitter night air. My hands, shoved deep into the pockets of my tattered farm jacket, were numb. I tried to warm my frozen toes by curling them closer from the toe of my boots, but failed.

I wasn't sure what I was doing here, especially not at two in the morning. It was freezing, unseasonably cold for a spring night, but I couldn't stay in the house any longer. I couldn't stand the empty silence, broken only by the hollow tick of the clock in the hall, for another second.

It was silent here, too, but it was a different silence. The silence in the house was suppressing, suffocating. The silence here was dry, muffled. I could breathe easily out here, surrounded by the quiet rustle of the cherry blossoms, and the soft sigh of the wind.

I gazed at the star-speckled sky. The bright flecks against the dark canvas of night gleamed, almost in comfort, but I was far from reassurance.

She loved him.

The simple sentence sent another chill down my spine, and I shivered. My cheeks were past numbness now, but I didn't care.

She loved him.

It was something I had known all along, unwanted, but inevitable. Like a force of nature, a hurricane, it had moved slowly, but surely, towards me. Seemingly harmless, a small storm that would soon pass, it had taken me by surprise, and tore my world apart.

Pulling my hands from my pockets, I cupped them together, blowing gently. I was rewarded with a momentary relief, and then another shock as the cold reclaimed its territory. I attempted friction, rubbing the palms of my hands together as quickly as I could, but that failed as well. Eventually, I gave up, thrusting my hands back into my pockets. What was the use? I was already numb inside. Why not outside, too?

I hunched my shoulders as another gust of icy wind passed over me. At least my neck was decently warm. It was everywhere else that was frozen.

I blinked once against unshed tears, and they were gone. I wasn't going to cry, at least not tonight. I would save the tears for their wedding night. I didn't care that men weren't supposed to cry; everyone experienced some sort of pain in their life. Why were the women the only ones allowed to express it?

I kicked the dirt as I walked, hoping the movement would warm me slightly. It did, eventually, on the outside. But not on the inside.

So I kept walking, following the northern star.

~*~

It was oddly cold that night, the night after the day I had felt warm for the first time in a long time. I sat, half-huddled on the lumpy cot (one knee drawn up, arms wrapped around it, while the other, my injured, dangled off the cot) as I stared out the window. The northern star glinted brightly in the sky, dancing, beckoning.

I felt abnormally lonely. I shouldn't have; the man I had harbored a secret affection for had confessed, earlier today, that he cared for me romantically. He had even kissed me.

So why wasn't I happy?

Holding Fern a bit closer, I curled more tightly together, feeling the chill more acutely than before. What was wrong with me? Had I truly lost the ability to feel joy? The day Kyle had knocked me over, and helped me with my wounds, the day he had carried me to the hospital…that day, I had felt some joy. But now my life-long dream had come true, and I felt nothing but confusion. Confusion and sorrow.

Again, for the hundredth time, and without my conscience command, I glanced at the empty chair Kyle had once inhabited, now pushed against the wall. I felt another stab of guilt and pain.

Kyle had left soon after Barrett, muttering something about watering crops without so much as a goodbye. He had hidden it well, but I had still seen the pain in his eyes, too clearly. Sharp, agonizing pain, the kind that time couldn't heal. I hadn't meant to hurt Kyle, and I still wasn't quite sure how I had. I had a notion it had to do with Barrett, and his confession. But I still wasn't sure.

And it was killing me.

Did I dare brave the night to get to his house and ask him? It was two-thirty in the morning, but I had a feeling he was still up. I shivered at the thought of the freezing air outside, but then glanced at the woolen blanket at the foot of the cot. It was itchy, sure, but it was warm. It would keep me warm enough, and I had the hood of my cloak for my head.

I hadn't really decided to go when I slid cautiously off the cot, and reached for the blankets. I swung it over me, settling it on my shoulders. It was undeniably warm, but still itchy. I ignored the urge to scratch as I slowly pulled on my boots. I was already cold, but my mind was made up.

I was going, and nothing could stop me.

I started limping for the doorway, blanket trailing along behind me, and then hesitated, my eyes on the staircase. Natalie. Should I leave a note for her? As much as I wanted to, as much as I didn't want the motherly nurse to worry, I decided against it. She would follow me, surely, if she discovered I was gone. I could hear her upstairs at the moment; her soft footsteps, and the clink of glass dishes was my only cover. I had to swift, and I had to be silent.

I tiptoed towards the front door, grimacing at the pain in my knee. Why did it have to be now, of all times that, I had to get seriously injured? I crept down the hall, and paused at the front door. I couldn't hear Natalie anymore, and I knew I only had moments. It was now or never.

Taking a deep breath, I stole into the night.

It was colder outside than I had expected, and I sucked in my breath sharply when the first blast of freezing wind hit me. Gently, I shut the door behind me, and set a brisk walk…as brisk as I could limp. If my knee had been well, I would have run. To be honest, the only reasons that stopped me from running were Natalie, and the dreaded hospital. I didn't want to worry Natalie anymore, and I didn't want to be trapped in by the bland walls any longer.

I slunk down the street, glancing around warily, and then turned quickly down the path that led to Kyle's farm. I was glad Barrett's house wasn't in the East District. I didn't want to give him the slightest suspicion about Kyle and me. I didn't want anyone to think it, though they surely did since Kyle's transportation mission. I just wanted them to think we were…friends?

The word startled me; for a moment, I stood stock-still, shocked by the thought. I hadn't had a real friend for a long time. Only Fern and Cammy, but Cammy was my sister, and Fern was a doll. Julia and Rosalind came over every Tuesday to visit, but I wasn't sure if it was out of kindness or pity.

Finally, I regained control of myself, and pressed forward. I could see Kyle's house now, and it quickly came into a more detailed view. I pushed myself faster than I probably should have, but I didn't care. A warm fire beckoned to me, and the dark, ominous clouds, skulking closer by the minute, threatened to break on me, and shower me with rain.

At the door, I faltered, my hand on the doorknob. Did I really want to do this?

My jaw clenched; yes, I did. Raising one hand, I knocked quietly.

I waited for two minutes longer, but no one came. Finally, gathering the little courage I had, I twisted the handle, and stepped into silence.

I knew immediately that he was not home. The fireplace was cold and dark. There were no lights on, but the house felt empty, like a loved one had died, and you could no longer feel their presence.

I shut the door behind me, looking around desperately. Even though I knew he was gone, I still wanted to feel hopeful. I lit the lamps-the shadows were menacing; I had been scared of the dark for a long time-and, taking one in hand, I began my ascent up the stairs.

The upstairs was just as empty as downstairs. I checked both bedrooms, hovering over the beds to be certain they were empty, and was shocked to discover that both beds were made, free of any creases. He hadn't even tried to sleep; he had either left after he had left the clinic, or he had spent his time downstairs.

But he was definitely gone.

Fighting tears of despair, I went slowly downstairs. Where in the world could he have gone? Wherever he was, he was most certainly cold, alone. Hurting.

All because of me.

That was too much for me to bear; I had to find him. I couldn't let him stay outside any longer; he would freeze. When I reached downstairs, I paused. Should I take one of his lamps? I didn't want to take one without his permission, but it was in both of our best interests.

I extinguished all but two, bringing them both to his kitchen table. Setting one off to the side, I placed the other in the center, and then bent down to write a note to him on paper I had hunted up, using the quill pen that had been laying on the table.

_Kyle,_

_I went looking for you. Wherever you are, it's cold, and dark. I don't want you to be out alone. It's my fault. _

_Dorothy_

I paused, looking down at the note with a frown, biting my lower lip. No. I couldn't say that. He would get the wrong idea…he would think I cared for him romantically…I just wanted to be friends…

The door crashed open just as a crack of thunder sounded, both making me jump. I whirled, one hand gripping the pen, the other snatching one of the lamps, to stare at the dark silhouette in the doorway.

I knew it was a male, and, for a moment, I thought it was my father. But he was too skinny to be my father, and a little too short. There was no priest hat; his dripping hair was tied back by a headband…

"Dorothy? What are you doing here?" A voice I knew well asked in surprise. His tone was marred by resentment. I felt my throat go dry.

Kyle.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note:

Sorry it took so long to update! I got a virus on my computer that wiped my files, and I've been pretty sick with some bug that's been going around. But it's finally up! :D

~Hmfan5535~

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I stared up, suddenly terrified. It wasn't very surprising to me; I seemed to always be afraid.

But this was a different fear. My mouth was dry, my hands clammy, and I couldn't think. Kyle seemed taller than he normally did, and the anger on his face was out of place.

"I…ah…I…well…"

"What? Tongue-tied?" He sneered, stomping into the house, and slamming the door behind him. He untied his headband, shaking his dripping, shaggy hair. I was splattered with drops of rain, but I was frozen in place, watching him. I didn't understand his anger, but it hurt like stabbing knives.

"Um…well…ah…you see…"

"Don't you have a date with _Barrett_?" He hissed, and it all clicked into place.

I stared up at him, but this time, it wasn't in fear. It was shock and confusion. Slowly, I placed the lamp down on the table, and then leaned against it for support.

Was he meaning what I thought he did? Was he…_jealous_?

I shook my head once, trying to clear my head. Kyle, jealous? No, of course not. He didn't care about me _that_ way, I was sure.

"Oh, so you're going to sneak off to see him after I kick you out the door, then?" Kyle was still seething; he stormed over to the hook on the wall, stripped off his soaking-wet jacket, and hung it up. I was still frozen, unsure what to say.

"No…Kyle…you…y-you don't understand…"

"No, Dorothy. I think _you_ don't understand. I don't want you hanging around here. It'll only lead to trouble for both of us." Kyle was pacing back and forth past the entry way, shooting me dark looks every few seconds. It still hurt, this undeserved anger.

"K-Kyle, please…!"

"No, Dorothy. I don't want to hear another word!" He jerked open the door; it smashed against the outer wall. I stared miserably at the sheeting rain, and then back at Kyle. His face was as emotional as stone; slowly, I drew the woolen blanket closer around me, and walked dejectedly out into the rain.

It was freezing; I shivered as the door slammed behind me. Rain lashed against my face, feeling like needles against my bare skin. I pulled the blanket over my head, creating a second hood, and started walking, trudging through the mud. Now what had I done? Obviously, something. Years of disappointing everyone I knew had trained me to know when I'd hurt someone, and I had obviously done something to Kyle. But what?

"Dorothy!"

I paused; was I hearing things now? Slowly, I turned, blinking against the rain, trying to squash the vain hope.

Kyle was running towards me through the rain, waving his arms. In his haste, he had left his coat behind. As I stared through narrowed eyes, trying to decide if it was really him or not, I noticed a piece of soaked parchment clutched in his right hand.

I stared at him for a moment in bewilderment as he stopped beside me. Without a word, he pulled me into a tight hug.

This closeness was strange, unfamiliar to me. It was almost uncomfortable, being held against him, but pleasant. His arms were soft and warm, offering me refuge from the pouring rain.

Kyle held me for a few moments later, and then pulled away, holding me out at arm's length. He studied my face-namely the wet bangs plastered across my forehead- and smiled sheepishly.

"Forgive me for earlier. I was…upset about some things, and I was taking it out on you."

"N-no…my…my fault…" I muttered, averting my eyes to the ground. Despite the rain that soaked my skin, I was warm. Glowing.

Kyle was quiet for a moment, and then he let go of my shoulders. I glanced up, instinctively holding my breath.

Kyle looked troubled, his brow furrowed as if he was considering something important. Slowly, uncertainly, he asked: "Would you…would you like to stay at my house? I can't let you walk in the rain; you'll get sick. Not to mention your knee." He looked up at me through his long lashes; he was, unbelievably, nervous.

I bit my lip, feeling my cheeks go warm. He was right. My knee was throbbing, the blood pulsing under the tight bandage, and it _was_ cold. But would staying _hurt_ Kyle? Would it hurt him the way I was sure being with Barret was?

Desire for a warm fire and chair overruled my better sense. My knee was buckling; without meaning to, I leaned against Kyle for support. His hands caught, and steadied me as my knee gave way.

"Please," I gasped as the pain shot through my injured leg.

"You should've stayed in the hospital," Kyle chided, and, without even a word, swept my feet out from underneath me, and up into his arms.

I froze for a moment, too startled to breathe. I hadn't expected him to pick me up. But, slowly, the shock wore off. Though I was uncomfortable, I was grateful for his help.

"T-Thank-you…" I whispered.

"It's no problem." His tone was cheerful as he kicked open the front door, and ducked in. The air, though the fire was out, instantly warmed around me; I sighed in relief as he carefully set me down in one of his chairs. As he shut and locked the door, I stretched my leg out carefully, letting it rest straight. The bandage was damp, and I knew it wasn't just from the rain.

"There's a double bed upstairs, if you would like to sleep." Kyle was starting a fire as he spoke. Scraping aside some of the ashes carefully with a metal poker, he revealed a bed of embers, glowing red in the dark. Kneeling next to the grate, Kyle blew, coaxing the flames to life. I watched quietly as he fed the growing fire bits of wood until it crackled merrily. Its warmth washed over me as Kyle turned to me, the firelight dancing across his features.

I suddenly found it hard to breathe. Kyle stood waiting, eyes intent on me. Half of his face was shadowed, the rest alive with the light of the flames. My eyes lingered on his features. His brown eyes, like liquid chocolate, were soft and kind. Locks of wet, red hair curled against his forehead. His cheeks were flushed, most likely from the cold outside.

I shook my head to clear it, swallowed hard to dislodge the lump in my throat, and murmured: "Thank-you, K-Kyle…I-I hope…I'm not being…a-a bother…"

I expected him to smile, and tell me it was no problem, like he usually did, but his expression was serious as he spoke, his eyes dark with some unfathomable expression.

"You're never a bother, Dorothy."

~*~

When I woke in the morning, I wasn't quite sure where I was.

I blinked once, then twice, up at the wooden ceiling. The bed I was in was comfortable, a welcome change from the hospital cot.

Then it came back to me. _Right_. I was at Kyle's. Blurred memories of the night before came back, brought to surface from my sleep-muddled brain. Slowly, I felt full awareness seep in.

I sat up slowly, rubbing my eyes. The woolen blanket I had used as a coat the night before was gone; Kyle must've taken it. I was still in my clothes, though they were wrinkled and slightly damp.

The smell of omelets reached me. I inhaled once, savoring it, and then slid out of bed to follow it. I tracked it out of the room, down the hallway, and then down the stairs into the front room, where I found Kyle frying eggs.

He turned when he heard me on the stairs, and grinned. "Did you sleep well?"

"F-fine, thanks…" I answered quietly, feeling mildly shocked. I spotted my woolen blanket hanging from a hook by his jacket, and, having a lack of better ideas, walked over to retrieve it.

"Are you not staying for breakfast?" Kyle asked me as I drew the blanket around me. It was familiar, a comfort in this strange new world of emotions.

"I-I can't…" I whispered.

His mood soured instantly; he scowled, and turned back to the frying pan, banging utensils together as he selected another tool. "Oh. Have some _plans_?"

I sighed, making a quiet vow to myself not to ever mention Barrett around Kyle. It seemed to make him angry, and part of his anger was always directed to me.

"No. I…I have to get back…t-to the hospital…b-before someone finds out...th-that I'm gone…"

He was quiet for a moment, and his movements were more controlled. "Oh. That's a good idea, I suppose."

I smiled to myself as I adjusted my blanket. I stood for a moment, unsure of what to do, and then turned to the door. As I was twisting the door-handle, Kyle called:

"Dorothy?"

I paused, turned, and flinched. Kyle was right behind me, closer than I expected, his face inches from mine. My eyes locked on his; my whole body froze.

"Take care of yourself," He murmured.

I finally managed to regain control over myself. I smiled fleetingly at him, turned, and retreated out the door.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"So what's with you and Kyle lately?"

I felt the heat pool in my cheeks before I could stop myself, blushing as soon as Kyle's name was mentioned, thought I wasn't sure why. I glanced over at Cammy, peering up cautiously through my bangs.

It had been two weeks since I had stayed over at Kyle's, and we hadn't exchanged a word since then.

Not one.`

As mine and Barrett's relationship bloomed, my friendship with Kyle crumbled. Barrett had taken to holding my hand, and kissing me whenever the opportunity presented itself, no matter who was present, and thought it made me sort of happy that he wasn't afraid to express his affection, it also made me uncomfortable. I had tried, several times, to talk to Kyle, and failed each time. I couldn't bring myself to call out to him, and I was usually with Barrett, so I could never talk to Kyle when I was with him. I had worked up the courage once or twice to go to his house late at night, but as soon as I raised my hand to knock, that courage shattered on the ground.

"W-what do you m-mean?" I asked quietly, swallowing hard as I tried to dislodge the lump in my throat.

Cammy's eyes were serious for once in her young life, intent on my expression. They studied my crimson cheeks for a moment, and then met mine through the hair that shielded my face. There was no beating around the bush with her.

"You know what I meant. You guys almost seemed like…friends. And I thought maybe you were more than friends after you spent the night at his hou-"

I clapped a hand over her mouth, glancing around fearfully for a moment. My father was in the chapel, and we were in my bedroom, but it didn't mean he couldn't hear. I knew if my father even thought someone had interest in me romantically, it spelled disaster for that man. I was surprised that he accepted Barrett so readily, and I sometimes thought that I saw something dark in his eyes when he saw us together.

Cammy was instantly chagrined. "Oops, sorry," She mumbled under my hand. After I was sure she wasn't going to blurt out anything else dangerous, I removed my hand.

"So, have you guys kissed and stuff?" Cammy was whispering now, so low that my father would have to be standing right next to us to hear.

My whole face went bright red again, and for a moment, I imagined it. Kyle kissing me the way Barrett did, and me, perhaps, kissing him back, like I did on those rare occasions with Barrett. For a moment, I was lost in a daydream, caught in a fantasy I didn't know I had created.

Cammy's anticipated breathing beside me jerked me out of the fantasy, punctured the dream. The colors bled away, and I was brought back into reality. As soon as I had recollected myself, I immediately began to deny.

"N-no! O-o-of course not! I-I'm with…with…" I couldn't finish my sentence; I averted my eyes in embarrassment.

"With Barrett? So?" Cammy's casual brushing away of loyalty never failed.

"So!? I-I don't l-l-" I gritted my teeth, and forced out the embarrassing word: "I don't l-love Kyle, and he doesn't…he doesn't l-l-love me…!"

"Please, Dorothy," Cammy scoffed, her eyes narrowing, "Has all that hair made you blind? You haven't seen the way he looks at you?"

I stared at her briefly, half out of disbelief, half out of annoyance. "Cammy, why…why would y-you notice these things?"

"Because it's _obvious_! I think everyone _but_ you knows!" Her expression was superior, her tone haughty. I sighed in response.

"Y-You're crazy."

"Talk to him about it, then."

Panic, alarming and suffocating, overtook me. "N-no! I-I c-can't…!"

"Sure, you can! I'll cover for you! Go on!" Cammy dragged me to my feet, and out into the hallway. I dug my heels in, and resisted, but it was a futile effort. She yanked me into the chapel, and down the aisle, past our stunned father, and out the door.

"Go on," She repeated insistently, giving me a little push in the direction of Kyle's farm. I looked in the same direction uncertainly, and then shook my head.

"I-I can't…" This time, it was a broken moan. I wanted to talk to Kyle. The restless nights I had spent had been caused by him. He was the cause of my paler-than-usual complexion, and the dark circles under my eyes. Curiosity burned through me, and it would not be satisfied until I talked to Kyle.

"Go, before I tell Barrett that you have a crush on Kyle." Cammy sang the words, but her eyes were serious; the threat was real.

I blushed again. "I do not…" I mumbled half-heartedly, and, with a sigh, started walking.

Well, limping.

~*~

Slowly, I raised my hand, curled into a fist towards Kyle's door. For a moment, I stood there, fist up, staring at the door with bated breath, before I finally forced my hand to come down.

I knocked three times, softly, but briskly.

For a moment, I stood there in silence, staring at the ground, both hands clenched into fists at my sides, waiting. And for a long moment, there was silence on the other side of the door. After another minute or two, I let my fists uncurl, wiping my sweaty palms nervously on my cloak.

I was just about to leave, assuming Kyle was out, when the door creaked open.

I looked up slowly, biting my lip until it bled. Kyle was standing in the doorway, his eyes guarded as he stared at me. Without a word, he stepped to the side, allowing me to enter. As I glanced around his rather empty-looking front room, he shut the door behind me.

"Dorothy. What are you doing here?" His tone was coolly courteous, and the politeness hurt, just like his anger did. I didn't want him to be angry, nor did I want him to be polite. I wanted him to be Kyle. Just Kyle.

"I-I came…to a-ask you something…"

He snorted quietly. "Well, that's too bad. You came at a bad time. I'm leaving."

I stared at him blankly for a long moment. Slowly, tears welled up in my eyes, and trickled down my face as the words burned themselves in my brain. _I'm leaving._

Finally, I found my voice. "W-what?! W-w-why?! You-You can't leave…! K-Kyle, plea-!"

My protest was cut off abruptly as Kyle leaned forward, and kissed me.

It wasn't like the soft, hesitant kisses I received from Barrett, or the rare, deeper kisses that we occasionally. Not. Even. Close.

His lips were hard on mine. I felt my back hit the door as he shoved me back with the force of his kiss, but felt no pain. I was on fire.

Heat surged through every corner of my body, exquisite senses racing through me. I shivered involuntarily as his hands brushed strands of my hair away from my neck, the light touch contrasting with the roughness in which he handled the rest of me. I was shocked, but I acted on instinct, kissing him back with every bit of me that I was worth. It was my fantasy all over again, only better.

As quickly as it had started, it was over. Kyle pulled away from me, his eyes closed, breathing heavily. I could only stare at him, wishing fiercely that the moment before hadn't ended, my own breathing as laboured as his.

"K-Kyle, I-"

"Get out."

I flinched at the bitterness in his tone, trying to think of any possible reason for the resentment that I felt emitting from him. I couldn't; I could only think of the taste of his lips.

"B-But Kyle-"

"I said get out."

I could only look at him a moment longer before hurt, sharp and stinging, welled up, nearly choking me with its force. Turning without another word, I wrestled the door open, and fled.

I heard the door slam behind me, echoing in the fading afternoon light. I kept running, ignoring my throbbing knee, ignoring the pain, ignoring everything except my feet moving underneath me.

Something snagged my foot, and I went down. I hit the dirt with a _thud_, the fall knocking the wind from me. I didn't know where I was, and I didn't care. I was in too much pain. Tears streamed down my face as Kyle's angry words repeated in my head, along with painful images of our kiss.

Curling into a tight ball, I tried my best to think of nothing at all.

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Sorry that this has all been in Dorothy's POV~ I wanted to have the kiss in Dorothy's. I will most definitely have more Kyle POV in later chapters~

~Hmfan5535~


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to leave her. I didn't want to give this all up. I knew with all my heart that this place was now my home, and the place I wanted to stay. I knew now that Dorothy had been the one I'd been looking for all this time, and now that I had found her, I didn't want to leave her.

But I had to.

I watched her go until she fell. I wanted to go to her, comfort her, promise her I wasn't leaving. The obvious grief and helplessness she was experiencing was blindingly painful to me. My heart was stabbed with regret as I forced myself to turn away, to ignore her pain.

What I wanted didn't matter. This would be good, good for her. Healthy. Safe. She would forget about me soon enough, maybe even by the next day. No. That wasn't like Dorothy. She definitely took first in the _'Most Sensitive Girl I've Ever Met'_. She would mourn for a week or so, and then forget. It was a natural thing. Dorothy had Barrett, and by the way the two were treating each other, they would soon be married.

So it didn't matter, anyways.

I shouldered the bag I'd packed. It wasn't much; just the possessions needed to survive. Sword, blanket, dried food, three canteens of water, worn gloves, a small amount of money. It would keep me going for awhile. I didn't know where I was headed, but it didn't matter. I just wanted to get away from it all. Never had any person-especially not a woman- tortured me in this way. Her shielded face haunted my mind, conscience or not.

I didn't want it to stop. But if I wanted to stay sane, it had to.

I slung the bag over my shoulder. When I glanced through the window again, Dorothy was only a faint outline, dragging herself slowly towards the clinic. I hated to think what that would do to her still-injured knee, but I couldn't help her.

I only stopped to write a quick note to Mana, and leave a bundle of pink turnips I had grown on the table. I knew, without a doubt, that when I wasn't seen around town for awhile, she would come to make sure I was okay.

_Dorothy would have, too_, An annoying voice reminded me in the back of my head, _She would have been here the day after with all her medicine, ready to heal me._

_Mana._

_I'm leaving. I can't live here any longer. I'm sorry. Thank you for lending me the farm. Thank your father for me, too._

_Kyle._

And so, with the single bag over my shoulder, and my sword secured to my hip with scrap cloth, I headed off towards anywhere.

~*~

"Gracious, Dorothy, what _happened_?"

"Fell," I mumbled pathetically as Natalie helped me up on a cot. It was only a half-lie, but I was too far gone in my pain to come up with a better excuse, like I usually did when I was dragged down to the hospital by Cammy after a particularly brutal beating.

Natalie clucked her tongue disapprovingly as she bent over my already injured knee. "Keep this up, and you'll walk with a limp for the rest of your life." When she dribbled some water on it to clean away the mud, I could help but let out a low hiss.

Natalie looked up at me. "There's something more, isn't there?"

For a long, long, time, I didn't speak. I just stared at my knee as Natalie continued to clean it. Since I had been old enough to learn medicine, Natalie had been watching over me. She had comforted me after every terrible beating, even when I wouldn't tell her what was wrong. For so many years, she had been my safe haven.

"…K-Kyle's leaving…"

The words came out without my conscience decision to give them. I felt my eyes widen at the information I had just given, and my hands moved automatically to cover my mouth before I could cause any more damage, wincing.

Natalie kept her eyes on my knee. "I thought…you and Barrett…"

"That's the _problem_!" For the first time I could remember, I rose my voice above a whisper, to a shout. I twisted my knee from her grip, and flipped onto my stomach, burying my face into my arms. I didn't even realize it until I let out a sob that I had actually shouted the words.

A hand touched my shoulder; I flinched, and tensed automatically, but relaxed when I realized it was just Natalie. Her hand rubbed soothing circles on my shoulder. I sniffed, feeling a bit better.

"I've noticed that you two have been spending more and more time together. That's where you went when you disappeared in the middle of the night, isn't it?"

Why deny it? I nodded my head once, moaning miserably. When was the last time I had cried like this? I couldn't even remember a time I had, except for when my mother had died.

The disease had been horrible. I faintly remembered the way it had slowly, and painfully, ravaged my mother's body until, finally, she had slipped away. I remembered the stench of decay as her lungs slowly rotted, and the pain was so terrible she could not wake from her nightmares. I remembered the day she had finally closed her eyes for the last time.

The day I'd turned five.

That had been the day I'd stopped speaking directly. That was the day I started keeping my eyes on the floor. That had been the day I'd never let go of Fern. That was the day I kept the hood of my cloak up, and grew out my hair and bangs so I could cover my face. That had been the day my father had started his vicious beatings.

That had been the day that marked the beginning of the end of my life.

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Sorry it took so long to update~ D:

And sorry it's so short! Hope you enjoy!

~Hmfan5535~


	9. Chapter 9

First of all, I am so, _so_, _SO_ sorry it took so long to update! I've been having problems with my computer, and my files being deleted, and crap like that. . I hope you can all forgive me.

~Hmfan5535~

"Do you have _any_ idea what trouble you've caused me?!"

My father's painful grip on my arm only tightened, even though I didn't even bother to pull away. I just kept my eyes on my feet, kept myself walking, as he practically dragged me along. The street was deserted, so he made no effort to pretend to be a good father, giving me a good cuff on the ear when I didn't answer.

"Finally getting together with someone, _finally_ attempting to stop being so pathetic, _finally_ attempt to get your lazy rear-end _out_ of my house, and then you _ruin_ it by _two-timing behind Barrett's back_?!"

I had never seen my father so furious, even after the nights he had spent at the bar, drowning his sorrows in alcohol until he was effectively removed from the bar because of his wild behavior, and escorted home, where he would usually find me, and, in a drunken rage, beat me until I was covered in purple bruises, and blood. Never had I seen him so furious, when he came to collect me from the hospital after, having confessed to Natalie every feeling about Kyle, Barrett had revealed himself from the hallway, where he had heard every cursed word I said, and effectively ended the relationship between us.

I had stopped crying long before my father had even arrived. I hadn't even let myself cry much; just a few tears down my cheeks, and then I detached myself, as I had learned long ago to do, and forced the tears back. I now felt nothing; I was completely numb, with only the hint of red around my eyes, as I stumbled alongside my father, doing my best not to fall as my injured knee throbbed and smarted.

My father shook my arm roughly as we neared the chapel, nearly knocking me off my feet. "Do you have _any_ sense in that head of yours, girl?!"

I figured I'd better speak up now. Better getting beaten for being defiant than for no reason at all. "I-I-I wasn't t-two-timing…K-Kyle kissed m-m-me…"

"And you kissed him _back_!" My father hissed, giving me another stinging slap across the cheek. The tears welled up in my eyes, but I didn't let them fall as he shoved me violently through the door. I ended up on my hands and knees as he slammed the door behind him.

"You're insolence will _not_ be tolerated!" Before I could get out of the way, he slammed my head down onto the ground in one, punishing blow. I felt my nose, already crooked from the severe beatings I had endured all my life, break once more, and blood gushed out of my nose. I could taste it in my mouth. I stayed down, knowing better than to try and get up.

"No one wants you now! How does that feel, Dorothy? To be unwanted, to be unloved?"

For some reason, the usual crippling fear that always seemed to control me was absent. I looked up, and saw my father standing above me, nostrils flared, face contorted with rage, and only felt hate.

I sat back carefully on my heels, and deliberately spat the blood in my mouth onto the floor, wiping away the excess on my face. "Cammy wants me."

He froze, and, for the slightest moment, his eyes were uncertain; he wasn't used to me fighting back.

"What was that?" He asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Instead of lowering my eyes to hide from the hideous anger, and, knowing it would earn me a vicious beating later, I said, in a loud, clear voice: "Cammy wants me."

"Insolent child!" A swift kick to the face; my already broken nose cracked once more, but I ignored the pain, and shouted as loud as I could,

"Natalie wants me!"

"Silence!" Something snapped in my chest when he slammed the side of his walking staff into it. I doubled over, wheezing and gasping for the breath that had knocked out of me, and waited for the next blow. All of the blood from my nose was running steadily down my face, mingling with the blood from my mouth.

A tiny, little voice in the corner of my mind noted with black humor that I could drown in my own blood, killed by my own lungs, just like my mother had.

By the end of it, I was laying on my side, bloody cheek pressed against the wooden floor, coughing, and hacking up blood. I only managed to choke out a single sentence before everything went completely black.

"K-Kyle….wants me…."

And then I floated away into the peaceful blackness.

~*~

Red was all I seemed to be able to see. Red, and the pain that snaked across my body were the only things the made sense, and my mind flickered between the two, trying to concentrate.

Red, pain, red, pain, red, pain, Kyle.

_Kyle…_

A brief flash of his sweet face behind my eyelids. I would've smiled, had I remembered how. In my mind's eye, he was standing sideways, glancing back over his shoulder at me, the wind gently tousling his red hair like a caress, brown eyes sparkling as he laughed at me, silly, awkward, dying me…

At least he was happy to see me.

_Kyle…I'm sorry…I miss you, Kyle, and I hope you're okay. Can't you come home now? I promise to make more time for just us- no Barrett. Why do you hate him, Kyle? He's a good man- really, he is. But you hate him so- why? Kyle, please come home._

_And Kyle? _

_I think I'm in love with you_.

~*~

Round, and round I go. Where I stop, nobody knows.

I had been walking for Goddess-knows-how-long, and my legs ached, my muscles burned. My body begged for me to stop for the night, set up camp, but I kept moving forward, knowing all too well that if I stopped, even for a second, the memories would come over me. Knowing that if I slept, even for a second, she would haunt my dreams.

The shadow of a far-off mountain darkened my world, and I smiled to myself, angling towards it.

Round, and round I go. Where I stop, nobody knows.

~*~

It was a long time before Cammy found me.

I was…_happy_, locked in my little dream world with Kyle, and I didn't want to leave, so it took her a long time to half-rouse me from my state.

"Dorothy? Dorothy, oh, goddess, please don't be dead…"

My face felt stiff; I knew the feeling all too well- dried blood. I managed to crack one eyelid open the tiniest bit. Fuzzy at first, Cammy's anxious face slid into focus.

"…C-Cammy…?"

"I'm here, Dorothy, I'm here. Oh, goddess…"

I tried to sit up, but she wouldn't let me; she gently pushed me back down, wincing when I flinched. "H-how…how bad…am I?"

She bit her lip, and then just shook her head. "Bad. Very bad. I have to get you to the Clinic."

"N-no…! They'll find out!"

"I don't care." Her face set in a stubborn pout. "Natalie will fix you up. So you can be better. So you can be happy again."

"Cammy…"

She shook her head, cutting me off. "No. I'm going to get Natalie."

"Cammy, don't-!"

But she was already up, and running, and there was nothing I could do to stop her.

_Oh, goddess. _Now what was I going to do? If they found out, my father would go ballistic…

Cripes, I was in trouble.

_Kyle…please come home…_

~*~

The sun rising in the sky didn't seem as pretty as it normally did.

I was still hiking, dragging my exhausted body up the side of the mountain. I wouldn't stop until I reached the top; I knew I would be too tired to dream after all the physical exertion, so I pushed myself.

But, more importantly, I was moving farther and farther away from home with every step.


End file.
